Bane for not, clenching here by a meek yield

Passions quench, only by desire to be disused

So becomes beckoning and thrift of knavery

Thrown by genius who bears not the being

Dual powers do open or crowd these binds that wound

That they be injustice worn by the bearer of time

Who so would play the knave in such a salty play?

Upon a fickle cant easily pushed away?

The victors scold and the critics swell with virtue

Still, solid arms reach even taller than the living

To wake and pay a ferry bowed in deafened strength

So small really are the chains bound to giving them away

Assailing upon the guise of vigil to turn

Turning is the law as season is approaching

Here is not where knavery rests its sword

But only that it does not cease the journey to division

And in reckoning there be duality

Bondage is ever swept between the absolute timely ascension

Rise and fall nobles, along side with verity

Those so small seek no key unfolding

They are mild to your intrusiveness of house

In times of myth you were also one

Within; is the only place you round and bout

Set them free, patrons whirled by the sea

Command you are as the wind and the moon

An authority of matter unread as governing the wise

Regrets are stirred and carved into the humble

It runs as deep as long as you have not peered in their eyes

The means you have captivated the wise

Have also in time captivated the descendants of your own tribe

Be of valor and engage with as much retorting task, oh small knaves

It is your province to awaken the balance and restore the peace

If you slumber the poisons will escape neither their bodies nor ours

Do unto that is flawlessly kept by enrichment

The part of the soul that cannot scar

The grace to be human is being who you are